


Frankly Speaking

by hazeleyes5390



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazeleyes5390/pseuds/hazeleyes5390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in the alternate universe, Olivia starts to realize that something is not right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frankly Speaking

**Author's Note:**

> Not my first fan-fic but the first one I feel is finished. Posted also on fanfiction.net. Please leave comments or give kudos :)

She walked down the hallway to her apartment. Sensing a pang of “something’s not right here”, she clutched her gun that sat on her hip. Already prepared with a key on a keychain that came from somewhere that she had been but couldn’t remember the memories made there. Thrusting the key into the lock, she opened the door. 

“Hi, Liv, I’m glad you’re home.” A man called out from the kitchen. She walked in and saw a shirtless man at the stove concocting something that smelled amazing. She walked over and was compelled to wrap her arms around this man. He turned at her touch and hugged her. “Frank, it smells amazing.” The words escaped from her lips. Yes, that was his name, her mind rationalized. He smiled and lowered his mouth to kiss her. Olivia looked up and kissed him. Sure, it was nice, but somehow it seemed different to her. “I am going to go change, I’ll be right out.” Olivia replied.

Once she closed the door to her bedroom, she laid down on the bed for just a moment. Staring up to the ceiling, she wondered to herself, why was her brain trying to rationalize everything. This man, her heart seems knows, but her brain doesn’t? It doesn’t make any sense. It had been a long day. 

Shaking her head, she got up and went to the bathroom. She stared into the mirror and turned the water on. She washed her face and then turned the faucet off. She headed to the closet and wondered where her northwestern shirt was. She wanted something comfy after a long day at work. She couldn’t seem to find it, so she settled for a long sleeve shirt and a pair of lounge pants. Peeling her work clothes off, she decided that her “memory slips” were a side effect from forgetting protocol while chasing Milo today. She allowed her clothes to fall to the ground. She dressed comfortably and headed back out to the kitchen.

Frank had set out the chicken chili he had made. “How was work today?” He smiled. “Work was work,” he replied, “how about you?” Olivia sighed. “I caught a suspect today. It was actually pretty exciting, expect for running through a low oxygen area and forgetting my pump.” Frank’s brown eyes traced her face. “Liv, you have to be careful. Are you alright?” “Yes, I am”, Olivia replied. They silenced themselves with another spoonful of chili. Olivia felt a gentle touch to her ankle. She looked to him and he smiled a smile warmer than the chili that sat in her bowl. He finished his bowl and put it down. He folded his arms behind his head and sat back. His chest was muscular and taunting. Olivia swallowed hard. She thought away thoughts and finished her chili.

Olivia finished and grabbed their bowls. As she walked to the counter, she asked “Do you want anymore?” He smiled and said, “Not of the chili.” Silently he came up behind her and pulled her hair aside. He kissed her neck, breathing gently to awake every nerve in her body. Her nerves screamed betrayal and he placed his hands on her hips. He kissed a sweet trail to her earlobe. While biting it ever so gently, his hand slid from her hips to the drawstring on her pants. Needing ever so desperately to silence her thoughts, she gave in. Frank led her by the hand to the bed. As he lay her down, Olivia realized that even the bed felt differently. Her back felt every deceiving spring of the mattress. Frank had lifted her feet up into the air and was kissing her toes. Olivia thought to herself, no not my toes, I hate when people touch my toes. Fortunately he stopped but had reached down and was now removing her clothes. As soon as she lay naked, he started to take his pants off. Both naked, Frank knelt down to taste her. Surprisingly, her body was reactive to the stimulation Frank had started to give it. He started to lick and savor her. Olivia couldn’t focus on anything but the ceiling.

He surfaced and headed up her body. Kissing every inch of the woman he thought he knew, Frank took position above her. He lowered himself into her. He found an appropriate rhythm and started to make love to her. Underneath him, Olivia’s mind was racing. Conflict ran rampant. The blood coursing through her veins reacted to his thrusts in her and excited her. However her brain wouldn’t hush. This didn’t seem right.

After it was over, Frank drifted to sleep. Olivia grabbed her robe and walked out onto the balcony. She was unable to grasp a clear thought. “What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously!” Looking out over the city, she watched as cars went through the streets, leaving no path behind them. The change that she sensed in herself, in this world, struck a serious nerve. In fact, she hadn’t been thinking clear since the accident at the opera house.

Giving up to craziness, Olivia headed in and settled down next to the man that lay in her bed. Closing her eyes, she embraced sleep. Her mind began to dream. Her dream led her up a staircase with a door at the top. She heard a voice, one that she could almost recognize, almost. The wooden stairs creaked under foot. She walked into the room and found it was a bedroom. The bed seemed comfy to Olivia and the pattern in the comforter was familiar, way to familiar. There was someone sleeping in the bed. Olivia felt compelled to pull the comforter back. The man, feeling the cold, awoke. “Surprised to see you. Walter let you in?” His eyes, his shoulders, his chest screamed familiarity. The peace that radiated from him, consoled Olivia’s aching mind. He grabbed her hand and interlaced his fingers in her. 

Olivia felt tears on her face. Tears that couldn’t be explained. The confusion and the strange level of awareness made her vulnerable and scared. Looking down to her toes, she couldn’t look at this man, this man that comforted every crazy feeling, every sense of loneliness she felt. She was nervous to look up and when she did, the man glimmered. A strange feeling came over her as the glimmer didn’t scare her, it calmed her even more. The man sat up and pulled her body closer. He guided her into his lap. Olivia sat down and felt his hands sweep her hair to one side. The man rested his hands onto her shoulders and started to massage her shoulders. He worked out stress that lay in every muscle. As she looked up, she noticed the mirror across from the bed. 

Pulling her shoulders into alignment, Olivia straightened up. He worked down her back once, kneading out pressure. Slowly returning to her neck, he caressed her hair, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and condition. His fingertips guided her head down, until her chin touched her chest. He then tilted her head around ever so softly. 

“Liv, can we talk?” Olivia nodded, comforted by a invisible sense of care. “I want you to know that I am glad I came back. I always felt at home with you.” Olivia, glaring at herself in the mirror, had found silent victory in his words and the fact that he hadn’t insisted she turn around, “But?” He quietly replied, “No buts. I love you.” Olivia found words coming to her lips and fear coming to her eyes, “I love you too, Peter.” The sun beckoned through the window.

Feeling sun shining in her eyes, Olivia awoke to the man, the apartment, and the world that she was tired of convincing herself that she knew. Maybe she wasn’t crazy. Maybe she didn’t belong to this world. Fearing the man would wake up, Olivia quickly gathered her clothes and went to the shower. She turned the water on, and let the water wash her clean, and hopefully cleanse her of memories of a blank ceiling and a lover that wasn’t hers. Once dressed and ready, she snuck out of the apartment. 

Getting into the car, she looked in the rearview mirror. Flipping her hair around, she started to pull it into a simple ponytail. Blonde roots revealed themselves. Olivia wasn’t crazy and she was going to figure out what was going on. Getting to work, she found herself waiting for Broyles in his office. As she waited, she found a file on his desk. Her file. However the picture inside wasn’t hers. The information wasn’t hers. The document was from a “Federal Bureau of Investigations” and the words scribbled on there talked of the incident at the Opera House. The words “infiltration” and “doppelganger” stuck out. The Secretary of Defense had signed his name and Olivia figured out easily that there was a reason as to why she didn’t belong.

Closing the file to the sound of footsteps, she felt a pang of tears. She fought them and addressed Broyles. His strict eyes judged her up and down. Broyles spoke briefly with her and Olivia kept her replies to yes or no. Dismissing her, Olivia headed down the hall. Reaching the bathroom, she locked the stall. She sat down and sobbed. One thought lay on her mind. 

“ I want to go home.”


End file.
